


A Cutting Edge

by Tinyshot



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Chizuru is a doctor, Competent Chizuru, F/M, Okita is the best wingman, Slow Burn, didn't you ever want her to be, idk where this story is going, more relationship tags possibly added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29788146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinyshot/pseuds/Tinyshot
Summary: As a doctor's daughter, Chizuru had a lot of experience helping out in the clinic. She's done it all, from setting bones to stitching wounds and treating infectious diseases. She is well-read and knows other languages which helps her comprehend foreign texts. But no matter how skilled she is, because of her gender, she can never be a doctor like her father.Or so she thought.Perhaps none can understand her predicament better than a group of ronin, who no one acknowledges as warriors, but who no one can deny the skill of.
Relationships: Saitou Hajime/Yukimura Chizuru
Comments: 12
Kudos: 9





	1. A Doctor's Daughter

“We will let you stay with the Shinsengumi until your father is found. Deal?”

Chizuru swallows nervously.

“Would I be your prisoner?” She asks quietly.

“You will be our… guest.” Sannan-san’s voice is soft and comforting, yet there is a barely perceptible edge to it. A guest, unless you make us doubt you in any way.

“I thank you for your kind offer, but… I cannot accept it.”

Hijikata-san’s brows furrow, a sharp crease forming in between them.

“Did it sound like an offer to you?” His voice is a dangerous growl.

Chizuru winces at his tone. It feels like he smacked her across the face, but she presses on.

“I refuse to be a freeloader. I can help. I have skills…”

“What kind of skills can a kid like you possibly have?” Hijikata spat dismissively, his expression growing even darker.

Anger bubbles in her chest, and she jumps up, taking a step towards him, ignoring soft noises of hands landing at sword hilts at her sudden aggressive movement.

“I have been assisting my father with medical work for a decade! I have stitched wounds, delivered children, mixed medicines, set bones and treated infectious diseases! I grew up on Dutch studies, and I read treatises on the latest Western medicine coming from Great Britain, France, and America! I even conducted surgeries when my father was too busy or away, I alone ran the Yukomura clinic in Edo for the past six months he was in Kyoto!”

She takes a deep breath after her tirade, glaring down at the Vice-Commander, who for his part looks quite taken aback.

“I know I cannot be a licensed doctor because I’m a woman, but don’t you dare dismiss my skill and experience, Vice-Commander Hijikata-san of Shinsengumi.”

Beside Hijikata, the man who saved her from the ronin last night - Saito-san, she recalls, - stirs at her impassioned words. He says nothing, but his gaze fixes on her with such intensity she can feel it on her skin.

A sudden burst of laughter breaks the tense silence.

“My, my, you seemed to have made the Demon Vice-Commander himself to shut up. I knew I liked you, Chizuru-chan.”

Okita-san? Chizuru turns to stare at the grinning man, and for the first time, there is no coldness to his cat-like eyes.

Sannan exchanges a glance with Hijikata, and then Kondo.

“It is true we could use medical help. The only person we have who is at least familiar with medicine is Yamazaki-kun, and even then, he is no doctor. Besides, his talents for subterfuge would be easier to leverage should he be able to focus on one thing rather than two…”

Sannan’s expression is thoughtful, calculating. Beside him Hijikata sighs and scratches the side of his head, purposefully avoiding Chizuru’s eyes, which she finds odd.

“Damn. You really _are_ an Edo girl.”

To the side, Okita chuckles heartily.

“And don’t we all know what that means.”

Laughter erupts across the room, and Chizuru can’t help but stare at the tatami, feeling her cheeks heat up. What in the kami’s name do they mean by that comment? She shuffles backwards, away from Hijikata, and sits back down on the floor, still embarrassed.

“Yukimura-kun, it would be our honor to have you as our doctor.” Kondo-san bows his head to her respectfully, and Chizuru shakes her head in response.

“As I said, I’m not a real doctor…”

“So what,” Hijikata’s amethyst gaze finally meets hers, and it is a lot less frightening this time. He no longer wears a scowl, though there is still a scrunch to his eyebrows. She wonders if he ever smiles. “None of us here are real samurai, but that doesn’t mean we are not warriors. If you are confident in your skills, then hold your head high. You are what you are, and names do not change that.”

You are what you are, she turns the words over in her head. Simple and straightforward though they are, they reignite her resolve, the same one that made her walk the long road from Edo to Kyoto on foot by herself.

“Yes, sir.” With those words, she straightens her back, squares her shoulders, and takes a deep breath. “I accept. I will serve as Shinsengumi’s doctor, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good girl,” She must have been mistaken in the soft morning light trickling through the paper partitions, but… 

She could have sworn the corners of Hijikata’s lips curled up in a quiet smile. 

Before she can make sure though, a heavy yet gentle hand lands on her head and ruffles her hair affectionately.

“Great to have you, Chizuru-chan. I am relieved that we won’t have to kill you, for what it’s worth,” a warm voice says in her ear, close enough that she feels a breath tickle her earlobe, and she jumps in her seat from sudden proximity, once again feeling her cheeks flare. Harada grins at her mischievously, clearly pleased with her reaction. His height lets him reach her by simply leaning forward on his elbow, squeezing in between Todou and Inoue-san.

“Sano-san, you perv,” Todou kicks at his behind, but Harada is as immovable as a rock and only laughs, “you did it on purpose!”

“Of course he did, it’s Sano,” Nagakura rolls his eyes, waving his hand dismissively. “Watch yourself with that one, Chizuru-chan, he’s a bit of a womanizer, he is.”

“I think you’re talking about yourself, Shinpachi,” Harada lets go of her, turning back to his friend.

Chizuru laughs nervously, not quite sure what to say or how to react. Hijikata lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Speaking of that. It’s clear that you will have to keep up the appearance of a man. Even if you don’t mean it, and I don’t think you do, mind, having a woman in the ranks will be… problematic.”

“Agreed,” Sannan’s voice is thoughtful and musical, and he rubs his chin, looking at her, “men are easily... distracted, and strife and conflict over a young lady like yourself would be unfortunate. Not to mention if rumors were to begin that Shinsengumi are keeping a woman in the compound…”

“I understand,” Chizuru murmurs softly, “besides, it would be easier to persuade people I know what I’m doing if I were a man.”

“I’m glad you see it our way,” Sannan smiles at her kindly, and she relaxes just a bit, “even if it’s not what you probably wanted to hear. For that, I apologize.”

She shakes her head.

“There is nothing to apologize for. You are allowing me to be who I always wanted to be, yet was never given a chance to… I ought to be thanking you. So thank you, Commander, Vice-Commanders.” Her bow is deep, and earnest. She wants them to know how thankful she is, for giving her this chance.

Saito’s azure eyes boring into her face seem to be white-hot rods on her skin. What on earth is his deal?

“Then it’s decided! Saito-kun, please escort Yukimura-sensei back to her room,” Kondo exclaims with an excited clap of his hands. Chizuru knows she is blushing fiercely, but can’t help it.

 _Yukimura-sensei_. She had only ever heard her father be called that. She had long accepted that she would never be called that. And yet…

“A moment, Kondo-san. There is a matter of her belongings…” Hijikata reaches behind him and hands her satchel back to her, along with her kodachi.

She grabs her bag first and paying none of the men any mind, begins to dig through it frantically. Out come scrolls and Western books, letters, some clothes, and supplies. At the bottom, her fingers close over cool leather and she breathes an audible sigh of relief. She pulls it out and unclasps the worn leather wrap, to reveal surgical tools.

They glint in the soft morning light, and she runs a hand over them with care, checking them one by one.

Hijikata’s voice breaks her reverie.

“I saw these tools when I looked through your satchel. What are those?”

“It appears to be Western surgical implements, Hijikata-kun,” Sannan-san replies before she can open her mouth, “they are called ‘scalpels’ and ‘forceps’, along with a few I don’t recognize. Extremely hard to get in Japan, and expensive. I am amazed you took them with you on the journey across the country, Yukimura-kun.”

“I…” She fidgets in place, feeling very small and foolish, “I know. I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t safe and… but I just couldn’t leave them behind. I had to.”

It’s not much of an explanation, she knows. But her hand still lingers on the polished steel, worn with use. She has to make herself let go, and carefully wrap her tools back into the protection of the cool and supple leather.

Only then does she reach for her kodachi. She unsheathes it just a touch, making sure the blade is… well it’s still there and is the same as it has always been. She puts it to the left of her and gathers her scattered belongings back into her satchel.

When that is done, she looks at Saito, who is calmly sitting in seiza, yet his eyes are still fixated on her. It’s unnerving.

“Saito-san? I’m ready to head back.”

“Very well. Vice-Commander?” His eyes shift momentarily to Hijikata before snapping back to her.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on.” Hijikata waves dismissively, clearly finished with the conversation. Chizuru slings the satchel over her shoulder and picks up her kodachi, tucking it into her sash as she stands.

Saito is already by the door and slides it open for her. She bows to the men in the room and exits into the cool morning air.

The sun’s caress is gentle and soothing, and she takes in a breath of icy air through her nose. No matter where she is, it seems that winter always smells the same, she thinks. If she were to close her eyes, she could mistake herself back in Edo, standing in her home’s garden. It smells exactly the same, it smells of snow and a northern wind, of frozen ground and icy grass.

“This way,” Saito’s voice is fading ahead, he doesn’t bother to stop and wait for her, and she has to hurry along to catch up to him.

Behind her, she cannot see Okita leaning on the door frame and smiling to himself.

  
  
  


“Saito-san?”

“What is it,” his voice is flat and emotionless as he surveys her room carefully as if expecting an assailant to jump out of a closet.

“Is there an infirmary already in the headquarters?”  
  
“No.”

It seems like he is not a man of many words.

“I see. Then, could I trouble you for some paper and ink?”

He looks at her. Again.

“Why?”

His staring at her is getting a bit old already.

“I wanted to start a list of supplies I would need to establish one. Just so I won’t miss anything or forget anything.”

“That is… acceptable,” he responds after a few seconds of deliberation.

It seems like Kondo’s and Sannan’s words about her not being a prisoner rolled off him without sinking in.

“Stay here,” and with that, he is gone.

She sighs and starts unpacking her satchel, with more care this time. Books and scrolls neatly arranged on the table, she puts her brushes on the right of her in preparation and once again unrolls the leather wrap containing her tools.

She tests the edge of one of the scalpels with her thumb thoughtfully. Then, reaching into her bag, she pulls out a whetstone.

  
  
  


“Hajime-kun, you were glaring a hole in the poor girl’s face earlier,” Souji’s voice is trailing him as he is walking back towards the room where Yukimura is staying, “can’t blame you though, she is rather cute.”

“You jump to conclusions, Souji. As always.”

His voice is even, and he keeps the same pace even though there is nothing more he wants than to speed up and leave his annoying friend behind.

Souji bounds along beside him, utterly unconcerned.

“You think she is as good as she claims?”

“If she is even half as good, we can use her.”

“Calculating as always,” Souji shakes his head and smiles conspiratorially. “I for one look forward to embarrassing her as much as possible. She blushes too easily.”

Saito says nothing in return. He is holding a stack of papers in one hand and an inkstone in another. It has taken him some time to locate the items, specifically an inkstone, as they didn’t keep too many spares. That is something that probably needs to change.

They approach the room, and inside he can hear an unmistakable sound. Metal on whetstone?

He and Souji exchange a glance. Then, without a word, Souji silently sinks down beside the window, hand on his sword. Saito continues on to the door, relocating the inkstone to his right hand, freeing his left.

“Yukimura? I’m coming in.”

He slides the door open by an inch and is careful to peer into the room from behind the wall rather than the moderately see-through paper partition.

Inside, the girl is beside the table, running the scalpel over the whetstone with smooth, practiced motions. She turns to face him and smiles.

“Saito-san? Were you able to locate some paper and ink for me?”

He relaxes just a touch. Her kodachi is in the same place where she left it after coming into the room, far beyond her reach when seated at the table.

“Yes.”

He opens the door fully and steps inside, before depositing the paper and inkstone at her table.

“Thank you!” She is eager to start, by the looks of it.

“I’ll leave you to it then. Should you need something, I’ll be right outside.”

“But it’s really cold outside, Saito-san! You can just stay here, it’s no trouble.”

He raises an eyebrow at her.

“You are a young, unmarried woman, Yukimura,” he says slowly, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t sound uncouth, “it would be improper for me to stay in your room alone with you.”

“I am supposed to be a man, Saito-san. Don’t you think it will give it away if you keep acting like that around me?”

“I… suppose.” He looks away from her, frowning.

“No one will know.” At that she is wrong, but he is not about to correct her, “or care.”

“But I will know.” He fixes his eyes back at her. “And I care.”

She straightens up in her seat and looks him directly in the eye without flinching.

“Cold is the root of many illnesses, Saito-san. I cannot in good conscience tell you to stay outside for propriety’s sake. In fact, I insist you stay indoors. Keep the door ajar if it makes you feel better, but stay here if you are going to keep an eye on me.”

Saito frowns, contemplating. She keeps her eyes on his, meeting him head-on.

The pause is long enough to make her whetstone dry out.

“Very well,” he finally concedes and slides the door open slightly with one hand before sitting in seiza in the furthest corner away from her.

“Good,” she replies and turns away. Before long, he hears the rhythmical grind of the inkstone and soft whisper of her brush. A shadow slides across the room as a familiar shape passes by the partition. Yukimura is too busy with her list to notice he didn’t come from the side of the room but from underneath her window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know if you like it, and please let me know what you think in the comments, nothing motivates me more than see people's reactions to my work :3


	2. The Value Of A Good Cheer

“Heheh, sorry about that, Chizuru-chan,” Nagakura rubs the back of his head sheepishly as she is wrapping a nasty bruise on his wrist tightly to limit the swelling. “Heisuke doesn’t know his own strength, the little brat.”

“At least it’s not broken, Nagakura-san,” she responds patiently, “but you still should be more careful. If you get injured in training, you might be unable to participate in any mission for a while.”

“You tell him, Chizuru-chan,” Harada grins at her, “whenever I say something it just bounces off his thick ass skull. Maybe he’ll listen to a lady.”

The new infirmary is set up in a spare room near to her own, and while it is small it’s so far has been enough. She can let the injured rest there should they need it, and it provides some privacy for examinations. The rank and file still give her a bit of a side-eye, since she is so young, doubly so in the eyes of those who think her a man - a boy - but one does not look a gift horse in the mouth.

Shinsengumi needs all the help it can get.

“Shh!” She quickly looks towards the door. There are only the three of them here, but the walls are thin.

“Right. Sorry,” now it’s Harada’s turn to look sheepish.

Chizuru gives Nagakura’s arm a final once over, carefully pressing her fingers around the bruise. The large man cringes but says nothing.

“That should do it. Keep the bandage on at least until tomorrow, and if it starts to swell again, I’ll put on a new one. You should have come sooner, Nagakura-san.”

“I know, I know,” he grins again, bouncing up to his feet in a single motion, “I’m just not used to us having a doctor in the compound, y’know. It’s nice! So! Now it’s back to…”

“No training for another two days, Nagakura-san,” Chizuru cuts in, expression as stern as she can make it, “at least. I know it’s pointless to ask for more, but let your arm heal if you don’t want to end up with a cracked bone.”

His beaming face falls, and he looks at her pleadingly.

“But what if I just use my other arm…”

“Absolutely not,” she says, wiping her hands and turning away. She picks up her brush and jots it down in her notebook: 18 February 1864, Nagakura Shinpachi. Acute swelling on the right wrist, from trauma sustained during training. Treated with cold compress and pressure. Left with a recommendation to refrain from training for the next two days.

She scratches under the chin with the end of her brush and adds to the side: though he is unlikely to follow that advice.

“Hey, I see that!” Nagakura pouts, eyes narrowing. Harada then peeks over her shoulder and bursts out laughing.

“I think she’s seeing right through you, Shinpachi.”

“Damn.”

  
  


The sun is starting to set by the time she is done with the treatment of the wounded. One person was injured in a skirmish and required stitches. Another had twisted an ankle on patrol, and it was swelling badly since the poor man had to walk on it all the way back from Fushimi.

Chizuru had just put the man to rest on the futon behind her and sat down at her desk. Again, she carefully writes down the date, name of the soldier, and the affliction he had encountered, along with her treatment plan.

That was not only for her own sake, however. If she were to prove to Shinsengumi that she is an asset, she needed proof.

Her notes might be the only thing standing between her and the blade of Hijikata’s sword.

Hmm, it looks like she could use some more bandages, too…

“Sensei, I think I feel better,” the soldier, Hattori, calls out from behind, “I can probably return to the barracks.”

Her heart swells with happiness when she hears him address her thusly, but she keeps that feeling to herself.

“But it’s not going to just go away, Hattori-san. You must rest your leg for at least a week.”

“I know, but… this futon may be of use to people who are in more dire need than me. I can’t just lay here for a week, taking up space.”

True… there would be barely enough space for two futons, but that would be it.

“Very well. Hattori-san, make sure to keep your leg raised up on something while you rest. Now wait a moment, I’ll get someone to help you get back.”

There is no way she would let him put weight on his bad leg.

She peeks out of the door. Nobody is there, which means…

Chizuru crosses the room on silent feet, and throws open the window partition swiftly and, she hopes, suddenly.

“Okita-san! I need you to help Hattori-san back to the barracks.”

“Oh?” His voice is mildly surprised, and maybe even slightly impressed as Okita tilts his head up, looking at her as she is leaning out of the window. “How did you know I was here?”

“One of the captains usually is, but I didn’t see anyone outside my door, which means…”

“Or it might mean they just went to take a piss and you could have been talking to yourself.”

She pouts at his crude words, her traitorous blush rising.

“Are you going to help or not?”

“Hai-hai, I suppose it can’t be helped.” He pounces up to his feet, and with an effortless motion he jumps up onto her windowsill, making her back away with a gasp of surprise.

Her foot catches the edge of a futon and slips.

“O-oh!”

Before she can hit the ground - and poor, hapless Hattori - a strong hand catches her by the front of her kimono and yanks her hard. She stumbles in the opposite direction, colliding with...

“Hey, Chizuru-chan. Watch it.”

Okita is grinning down at her as her cheek is smooshed against his bare chest, his back against the wall.

“Uh… um…”

Before she can gather herself enough to say something coherent - reprimand Okita for his sudden scare for one - a figure blocks the reddish light of the setting sun.

“Yukimura, your dinner is…”

Her face must be matching the color of the evening sky. That is an… unfortunate position to be caught in. She can’t quite make out through the burning light who it is but...

“Ah, Hajime-kun,” Okita grins at him, pushes her away, and dusts himself off, “I was just leaving. Keep watch for me? Got some things to take care of. Come on Hattori, move your ass.”

Within seconds he has the soldier’s arm around his neck and saunters out by Saito, who seems to be rooted to the spot, tray in hand.

“Careful with that one, Hajime-kun. I’d feel unsafe if I were to be left alone in the room with them. Who knew they were that kind of a person?” His sing-song voice carries through the door, still open, still filled with silhouetted Saito.

“Okita-san… you meanie…” mumbles Chizuru, turning away. 

Saito is still standing in the doorway. She tries to note in her papers that Hattori-san was sent back to the barracks to recuperate, but her fingers shake so badly she has to put the brush down.

She can’t tell if it’s from anger or embarrassment.

Instead, she throws Saito a glare.

“Are you going to just stand there?”

He jumps slightly as if remembering that he is still there. She feels instantly guilty for lashing out at him. She bows her head, her shoulders slumping slightly of their own accord.

“Okita-san… didn’t have to say that. It’s not what it looks like... I was about to fall and he pulled me forward, and I bumped into him. That’s when you came in.”

“I… see.” Saito finally unfreezes from his spot, slowly walking toward her. “Is Souji bothering you?”

She bites her lip. She can’t complain. It would be rude, and she doesn’t want to overstep her position.

“It’s fine, Saito-san. I can deal with him.”

He makes a sound, somewhere between a hum and a sigh. She can’t know for sure what it means. Doubt? Amusement? Or maybe… concern?

“Thank you for bringing my meal.”

“It’s nothing.”

Saito looks down at her log, and she can see his blue eyes scanning the page up and down. It seems like he found her entry on Nagakura from earlier, as she could have sworn a corner of his thin lips turned slightly up.

“You have been busy, Yukimura.”

“I suppose. It’s really nothing compared to some of the days we had back in the clinic…”

“Is that so.”

“Yeah…” She smiles softly, remembering the soft golden days of summers past. “Good times.”

She then realizes what she just said and waves her hands around in mild panic.

“I mean! Not for the patients! Probably never for the patients. That’s not what I wanted to... I would never say that about the pain of others… It’s just…”

“Despite that, you were able to do what you love, and hone your skills,” Saito interrupts her aimless stream of words, and puts it better than she ever could, “I know what you mean.”

And she really thinks he does. It seems like Saito was speaking about himself as well as her with that sentence. His gaze is far away and far back in time as he looks out the window at the evening sky.

The silence is broken by the sound of stomping feet. Within a few seconds, Heisuke pops into the room. His face falls a bit when he sees Saito standing inside.

“Heisuke-kun? Is everything alright? Are you hurt?” Chizuru gives him a quick once-over. He seems just as bouncy and bubbly as ever.

“Wha? No, why would you…”

“It _is_ an infirmary, Heisuke,” Saito turns to face him, nonplussed.

“Right. Right. I forgot. Dinner’s ready, you two coming?”

“Two?” Chizuru tilts her head in surprise. “But Saito-san already brought my food here…”

“Food is better in company,” Okita slithers - for the lack of a better word - back into the room. He has his back to the door frame and sort of… wraps around it, sliding along the sides to face them. He has a cat-like grace to his movements, and she can only imagine how swift he is in battle, “Don’t you think?”

His question is directed not at Chizuru but at Saito, who is still standing by her desk, tray in hand.

Saito seems to be pondering the suggestion for a second of two, with the other two captains deferring to his judgment. Chizuru is starting to notice that there is a sort of soft hierarchy to the captain’s authority, despite them being equal in rank.

“Vice-Commander is not here to give his permission but… I see no harm in it.”

Heisuke beams at her and Okita lifts an eyebrow at Saito momentarily, as if in disbelief. It’s like there is an exchange there, all done without a word, and beside her Saito shifts, his movements stiff and uncomfortable.

“Amazing. Heisuke-kun, bring her tray.”

“Ehhhh? Why me?”

“‘Cause,” Okita already relieved Saito of the tray and swiftly deposited it into Heisuke’s arms. Chizuru blinks. She could barely even register the movement that occurred. There was just a whirlwind of burgundy and green cloth, a soft clink of ceramics and then Okita bounding past her open window, “he who suggested a plan should carry it out.”

“Hey! No dice!” Heisuke is already sprinting after laughing Okita, cups and bowls rattling dangerously.

Saito closes his eyes momentarily, breathes out through his nose, and then looks at her.

“Let’s go.”

“A-alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Okita is not happy about being Saito's wingman in this story. Feel like he wants to butt in and make it a triangle.
> 
> Maybe.
> 
> Let me know what you think ^_^


	3. A Single Strike

The day is light on patients, and so Chizuru decides to stretch her legs and walk around. Hijikata didn’t give her permission to move around the compound freely, but…

_I see no harm in it._

Saito’s thoughtful, even voice echoes in her head.

She has been joining captains for meals since that day. And with Hijikata still in Osaka, likely due to Sannan recovering from his injury…

Her legs carry her by various buildings, without much of an aim. She still doesn’t know her way around, since her movements have been pretty limited and heavily monitored.

Speaking of that, it seems like no one was guarding her room this time? That is odd, but she won’t complain.

Whistling sounds of a blade slicing through the air attract her attention and she heads toward it.

“Oh? Chizuru-chan?”

Oh, bother.

Of course, it had to be Okita. Chizuru stifles a grimace and looks at the other man, further in the yard. It’s Saito. He is the one who’s been training, blade whistling in the still air.

“Okita-san, Saito-san. Good day.”

Saito hadn’t stopped his kata, hadn't even given her a glance, utterly focused on his movements. His blade is a shining sheet of silver in the bright sun.

“So fast...” murmurs Chizuru, fascinated. Okita chuckles beside her. He’s got good ears, she remembers a little too late.

“So? Mind telling us why you’re not in your room or the infirmary? Don’t tell me you came out all this way just to watch Hajime-kun train.”

  
  
  


Saito noticed her watching immediately, even before Souji spoke up. He might have been focused on his katas but not to the point where he would miss an approach by someone who isn’t trying to hide.

Speaking of that, the girl’s body language seems to be relaxed, though she tenses up immediately when Souji opens his mouth… which well, he can’t blame her for.

She isn’t trying to close off or pretend, she is earnest and he can read her like a book.

That casts doubts in his mind on Hijikata’s suspicion of her being a plant. She would never pull it off. She is way too honest.

She really is just a scared girl in an unfamiliar city, as he put it the day they met.

“Something on your mind?” A leading question if there ever was one.

“How did you know?”

There is no way. She is not a spy, and that settles it in his mind. He sheaths his sword in a practiced motion and turns to face her. Her big chestnut eyes look at Souji with an earnest question. He can’t help but chuckle.

“You just told us.”

Those doe-eyes blink a few times in surprise. Her small mouth forms an “o” shape for a moment as she realizes what happened.

There is no way. No one is that good.

The only reason he is so good at lying is that he is guarded and careful all the time, making it hard to determine when he has something _to_ guard.

This girl however wears her little heart on her sleeve. Even Shinpachi and Heisuke are more aware of their emotions.

He must speak to Vice-Commander about it. Their resources are better spent elsewhere rather than watching this child. She is no threat to them.

She speaks about wanting to look around for her father. He wants to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Resources, or more specifically the lack of them, yet again. There is no need to tell her she has been an additional factor to the strain, that would just be needlessly cruel.

Even Souji must know that, for he doesn’t bring it up. He has to be grateful for small things.

“Maybe she can tag along during our rounds, though.”

“Really?” Her face is a delight to watch, expressions cycling so rapidly, hope and fear and excitement. Rarely does one meet someone who is so honest with their feelings.

“It’s not a walk in the park. You’ll be in danger. If we make mistakes, people die,” Souji is ruthless in grounding her expectations immediately, and her face falls.

He suspects Souji is taking pleasure in watching her emotions rapid-fire even more than him, and he makes no secret of enjoying pushing her buttons.

“I have been taught self-defense!” She steps forward slightly, fists balling up, “I can protect myself! Please, I won’t get in your way!”

She has the will and determination in spades but... He carefully weighs her small frame, her delicate wrists.

So fragile and light, she makes him think of spring ice forming on top of a rain puddle overnight.

He must be cautious not to break her.

“Then let me test you. Show me your skill.”

Behind the girl, Souji gives him a strange look. Saito is somehow sure he is never going to hear the end of it from his friend.

“You must be having a sunstroke, Hajime-kun, better head for the shade.”

He solidly ignores the remark, instead focusing his attention on the Yukimura girl.

“What?” Her expression is puzzled, then there is a flash of worry.

“Come at me with your strongest strike. I will hold back but you don’t have to.”

“But!..” her expression is panicky, hands clasped in front of her chest. He draws his eyebrows just a bit. She didn’t seem to be lying, and she was so determined but a second ago. What is wrong then?

“Is that blade only for show, then?”

“Of course not! It’s just… if it were to slip, you might get injured, Saito-san.”

That was not the answer he expected. He and Souji exchange a wide-eyed glance before the latter bursts out laughing.

“You… you must be really something if you think you can hurt Hajime-kun! That’s the funniest thing I heard all day!” Souji is shaking with laughter so bad he is having a hard time standing.

“That’s not a laughing matter!” She puffs up, indignant, and he finally understands. “If it were to protect myself or someone else I wouldn’t even hesitate, but even training fights are dangerous! I can’t…”

“Then use the scabbard or the back of your blade, if you are so worried. I need to know what your skill is to decide whether or not to allow you to join us. That is all.”

She hesitates again, but after a few seconds of deliberation, confidence flows back into her body. She made a decision.

Yukimura unsheathes her kodachi and settles into a simple fighting stance. Her blade casts a flurry of reflections on the nearby walls when she flips it over, resolute in her conviction to protect him from a possible injury.

It is… endearing.

“Let’s begin, then.” Her voice is strong. He stands in front of her, watching her every movement. Her stance is simple, but it is correct. She clearly has been trained. Her footing is sure, shoulders square.

“Come,” he simply says, and that is all encouragement she needs. She charges.

Up to the last moment, he watches. He watches for any sign, a heartbeat of hesitation, a slip of confidence. A veering of the strike, a deliberate misstep. Something and anything that doesn’t belong there.

But all he sees burning in her eyes, in her blade, is determination. He smiles.

It is a trivial matter to sidestep her strike. She would have hit him square on the left shoulder had he not done so. She is surprised at his dodge but quickly catches herself, turning to strike at him again, following his movement... 

The metal sings, and her kodachi is thrown high up into the air as his strike knocks it out of her hand. It would have been easier to continue the movement through her delicate neck rather than forcefully stop when he had, he realizes with regret.

He is a killer. It shouldn’t be that easy to end a life, but it is. Not ending it is far, far harder.

The edge of his blade is grazing the tender skin of her neck, but it hasn’t broken through. Their faces stop inches apart, and he can feel her stuttering breath on his cheek.

Her eyes are dark pools filled with primal fear. The regret and sadness that strangle him intensify at that. Her expression is the same she wore when faced with feral rasetsu that night when they found her. Is he any different than them in her eyes?

But that is no time to dwell on it.

“Your master should be proud. Your blade was not clouded.”

“Huh?..”

She is still stunned, but her expression relaxes, fear melting away from her features.

It is then he realizes that they are standing way too close for propriety and backs away quickly, sheathing his sword.

He is thankful he has his back to Souji, and that he has enough control over himself to keep his voice from wavering.

“Your skill should be enough for you to come along.”

Souji gives a surprised hum and slowly claps his hands together. It’s hard to tell if he is mocking either of them or not.

“Praise from Hajime-kun? I’m impressed, Chizuru-chan.”

Souji hands her back the kodachi, but Saito isn’t listening to him blabber on. He does promise to talk to Vice-Commander on her behalf, though. It’s the least he can do.

He doesn’t miss how the girl rubs her right hand uncomfortably. She doesn’t say a word of complaint, however. But Saito knows that he must have hurt her with his strike. There is a pang of guilt as he watches her skip away from the courtyard.

“What a strange kid, don’t you think, Hajime-kun?” Souji’s voice brings him out of his thoughts.

“I wouldn’t know, Souji.” Saito turns to face the building nearby. “Yamazaki? She’s gone.”

A figure steps out behind the corner and gives them a short bow.

“Did you need anything?”

“You didn’t stop her from leaving the room,” he notes, and the spy nods.

“I figured if she was going to do something suspicious, she will do it when she thinks no one is watching.”

“That’s enough,” he muses, “I don’t think she’s capable of that kind of thing. Your time is better spent watching Masu Kiemon.”

Yamazaki seems to be taken aback, but Souji nods sagely in agreement.

“Let it go, Yamazaki-kun. We’ll talk to Hijikata-san when he’s back.”

“Very well,” he says and stalks off into the shadows.

Souji watches him go with narrowed eyes. Saito knows there is some sort of animosity between the two, but it’s hard to say if either one is at fault.

If Souji simply doesn’t like someone, there is no convincing him otherwise.

“Well, when I said ‘we’ I meant you, Hajime-kun.”

“Somehow, I already knew that.”

Saito watches the direction Yukimura has gone in silence. He will never admit such a thing to Souji, but…

That is the closest he has ever been to a woman. He lived his whole life in a world of men, and only on the outings to the red light district with the rest of the captains did he ever come in contact with women.

Those geiko and maiko were paid to serve them, however, and his talent for reading people didn’t do him any favors either. He could easily see that all their attention and smiles were fake, and he never found that attractive.

How different this girl was to them. It… intrigues him.

And if he were to be honest with himself, as one might hope to be… he can still feel her warm breath on his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think ^_^


	4. A Ghost In The Night

_Please, don’t die._

Half of her face is caked in blood where she presses her cheek against Okita’s chest in a twisted mockery of his little stunt in the infirmary from just a few months ago. He clearly is breathing, but she can barely hear anything with her ear jammed right up against him.

_You are a pain, Okita-san. You’re crass and mean, and are the most insufferable person I know but…_

Her fingers make an alarmingly hollow sound when she taps on the left side of his chest.

_I don’t want you to die._

  
  
  


Earlier that day…

“You have the shittiest luck, you know that?”

Chizuru lowers her eyes, flustered. She only wanted to avoid getting in their way… who could have guessed this Masu Kiemon was a person of interest to Shinsengumi?

And she definitely didn’t expect a room full of ronin to pull out their swords on her.

“I’m starting to regret speaking up for you. So far you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass.” Okita’s words are ruthless but there is a hint of playful undertone in his voice. The one she is starting to learn to recognize.

He doesn’t _really_ mean it, she thinks, but… can she really be sure of it? She’s only known Okita for a couple of months...

“You did it of your own volition,” she responds, a lot more meekly than she was hoping her voice would be.

“To be fair, Hajime-kun did all the talking. I was just nodding in the background.”

“So you shouldn’t complain then,” she puffs up a little bit, but she can’t really deny that she is far from lucky.

“You try nodding at Hijikata-san when someone says something he doesn’t like hearing.”

A… fair point. Hijikata scares her.

It must have shown on her face, as Okita gives her the wolfish grin that shows he knows he has the last word in the conversation.

Instead, she chooses to give a quick bow of apology to the two men standing beside Okita.

“Yamazaki-san, Shimada-san… I’m so sorry about this. I had no idea…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shimada’s rumbling voice is kind and soothing, diametrically opposite to Okita’s mocking tone, “it wasn’t going anywhere, to be completely honest with you, Yukimura-kun. We were going to tell that to Sannan-san this evening.”

“Indeed,” Yamazaki gives her a small, reassuring smile, “he was suspecting someone was watching him. Something must have tipped him off, though I couldn’t tell you what.”

“Some people just have that gut sense,” Shimada shrugs, “nothing you can do about that.”

Behind them, the warriors of 1st division just finished wrangling the last of the conspirators into ropes. Okita looks over the bound and kneeling men and tall stacks of weapon and ammunition crates, his expression smug.

“Well then, that does it for today. Book them at the headquarters, boys.”

“Yes, sir!” A chorus of proud voices echoes down the eerily empty street. Most onlookers have cleared when the steel was drawn, but Chizuru can see concerned and frightened faces through the windows.

The walk back is uneventful, with citizens giving them a wide berth at the sight of the sky-blue haori. Chizuru trots behind them, slowly realizing just how hard it must be for the men of Shinsengumi.

Distrust and fear are palpable in the air.

But they only want to protect Kyoto… it’s so… unfair.

Back at the headquarters, Sannan lays into them with cold fury. Chizuru watches his movements and takes mental notes.

He didn’t let her examine him when he and Hijikata arrived back from Osaka. He ignored her pleas and shut his door in her face.

She can scarcely believe it was the same kind man she met just six months ago. The thoughtful musicality of his voice has been replaced with distant hollowness.

_For a swordsman, their arms are their life._

Saito’s words said on the night they learned of his injury came unbidden to her mind. She watches Sannan’s hands carefully. The right hand is alive with emotion and expression, even if it is anger and frustration. The left…

She cannot see a single twitch from his pale fingers, as much as his flowing sleeve allows her to.

That’s… bad. Really, really bad.

If there was motion, even the slightest twitch, perhaps there would be hope he could restore some mobility to his arm. If only she could know if he felt anything, and if he did, where did it start and stop…

“That’s enough. You all are dismissed,” Sannan turns on his heel and marches out of the room without looking back. Okita lets out a relieved sigh.

“Ever since the thing with his hand, he’s been a complete ass.”

“Can you blame him?” Chizuru asks quietly.

“At least he could have the decency not to lash out,” the captain is already on his way out of the room. She can never follow the speed of his movements. Okita is like a ball laying on a steep hilltop. Peaceful and at rest until the slightest gust of wind pushes him into rapid motion.

Shaking her head at the sudden comparison that came to her mind, Chizuru gets up to follow him out.

On the way back to her room, she bumps into Nagakura, who is holding a candle and a long, very sharp looking needle in his large, shovel-like hands.

“Oh, careful there, Chizuru-chan,” he lifts the items up above her head level, “you don’t want this thing pushed through you.”

She eyes the items with interest.

“What are those for?”

He gives her a strange smile she doesn’t quite understand. It seems to be… relieved? And regretful?

“Hijikata-san is having a talk with those Choshu guys Souji brought in and he sent me to… get some necessities.”

“I don’t get it.” She blinks. What do a candle and a needle have in common with a conversation?

Nagakura barks out a short laugh.

“Oftentimes the less you know the better you sleep. Go back to your room, Chizuru-chan. Things might get hectic around here soon.”

“Oh. Alright.”

Nagakura runs off, leaving her highly confused in the hallway.

  
  
  


The raid on the Choshu conspirators is imminent. She bows as the warriors start filling out into the dark streets, wishing them all good luck.

She raises her head as Hijikata and Kondou pass.

“I’ll be prepared for when you return in case there are injuries.”

“Thank you, Yukimura-kun,” Kondou’s smile is warm and it makes her relax just a touch, “we’ll be depending on you.”

They will return. They will.

“I will do my best,” she bows again,

“Make sure to stick by Sannan-san while we’re away,” growls Hijikata, his mind clearly focused on the mission ahead. He doesn’t even give her a look.

The lives of his men depend on him.

In response, Sannan gives her a pained grimace that she suspects is supposed to be a smile.

It pains her to see him like this. If only he would let her help…

“Let us return,” Sannan murmurs, watching the receding lantern lights with a wistful expression.

“Alright.”

She follows him back into the darkened compound, so eerily quiet now that most of the warriors are gone. Chizuru pops into the infirmary for a moment to grab her bag of first aid supplies, and after a moment of hesitation, she slips the leather wrap containing her surgical tools in as well. Just in case.

Everything is ready to go. She settles in a corner of the common room, preparing for a long night.

She must be on hand for when the raid is over. Her little infirmary is likely to not be enough, so she will have to work from the common room.

For a long while, there is nothing but the soft sound of Sannan’s brush gliding on the paper. She watches his left hand, listlessly resting on his lap.

Not a single twitch of life.

_I guess I was right… though I wish I hadn’t…_

“Colonel.”

A dry, serious voice calls out from behind the partition.

“Yamazaki-kun?” Sannan peeks up, getting on his feet. He slides the door open. Yamazaki is there, and Chizuru can’t help but stare. The young man is wearing sleek black clothing, making him hard to see in the gloom. A mask is covering his face, leaving only a small gap through which she can see his dark eyes.

He looks like a real shinobi stepped out of a hanging scroll, so different in the mannerisms and air from his usual casual self.

Yamazaki kneels in front of Sannan, fist to the floor.

“They are meeting at Ikeda.”

Her heart sinks.

They all thought the meeting was going to happen at Shikoku. Only ten of the men went to Ikeda, and only as a precaution.

She can hear Sannan grit his teeth.

“Shinsengumi never was good at the games of chance.”

The rest of it is a blur. She must go to Shikoku with Yamazaki, and carry the message. Her bag with medical supplies is hastily thrown over the shoulder, and she checks her kodachi.

Before she runs out, however, her way is barred by Sannan.

“Before you go, put this on, Yukimura-kun.”

In his hand, folded, is a shock of sky-blue cloth.

A Shinsengumi haori.

She looks up at him, dubious.

“Can I?..”

“It’s not a matter of should you or should you not. In the dark, you will be killed if you are not wearing our uniform.”

His voice is steel, and neither of them has time to argue. She grabs the bundle from the Colonel and darts out into the night.

  
  
  


She has no time to contemplate her aching feet and a throbbing cramp in her side. She managed to find the Shikoku team after Yamazaki stayed behind to cover her, and seconds later, it is time to run again.

“Stay with us. It is too dangerous for you to be alone in Kyoto,” Saito’s cold voice makes her shiver. It’s like he raked a sword against her skin. “Especially when you are dressed like this.”

His eyes fall on the haori she is wearing. She can’t know what he might be thinking.

Perhaps that she didn’t earn the right to wear it. Or maybe that it looks ridiculous, the flowing garment nearly swallowing her.

He says nothing else.

“Here, lean on me,” Harada is at her side, proffering her a hand, “‘fraid we’re gonna have to run again. Can you do it?”

“Yes.” She nods emphatically, even though her body protests every second of it.

She can’t stop now.

Harada hefts her bag onto his shoulder and helps her up.

“You can do it, Chizuru.”

“I’ll try,” she responds quietly, so only he can hear it.

The unit is off seconds later, with Saito in the front and her and Harada bringing up the rear.

Even through her ragged breathing and stomping of dozens of feet, she can hear the sounds of battle from a block away.

“Harada-san, my bag…”

He hands it back to her, and her trembling hands nearly give out from the weight. She is so tired…

“I’ll take the front,” Saito’s icy voice rings out in the night. Harada nods in response.

“I’ll make sure no one is sneaking out the back.”

They nod to each other and split up. Chizuru looks into the yawning maw of the doorway.

It seems like it’s pitch black inside.

“Saito-san,” she calls out, running up to him, “there could be injured inside. I’m coming with you!”

He measures her with those unreadable eyes.

“If I must be impeded by your presence, stay back. Guarding you is not my priority.”

She takes a step back from the forcefulness of his response.

Is this really the same man that stood up to Hijikata for her?

He turns away, looking into the darkness.

“... though I do not care to see you die.”

And with that, he charges in, hand on his sword, ready to unleash his iai.

She follows in his wake, along with his men. A heavy, metallic stench of blood hits her in the face. Saito’s sword is a lightning strike in the night.

Each swing is punctuated with a sound of death.

“Saito-kun!” Kondou’s bloodstained face splits into a wide grin, “you made it!”

The bravery of these men will never cease to amaze her. They are in the thick of battle, surrounded by death and fighting for their lives. And yet, they smile so brilliantly.

“Forgive our delay, Commander,” Saito smiles in return. The first real smile she has ever seen on him. Relief is surging through his usually monotone voice, and she understands at last.

How could she have thought him distant and cold? That was how he showed his concern. His worry for the friends that were fighting a disadvantageous battle without him.

Saito cares, cares deeply for those he holds dear.

“And… Yukimura-kun?” Kondou’s surprised voice breaks her reverie and she nods.

He must have mistaken her for one of Saito’s warriors at first.

“Was anyone hurt?” She yells over the chaos of the battle. Kondou jerks his head towards the shadowy staircase.

“Souji is upstairs, could you check on him?”

“Yes!” She is already tearing off, ducking her head to make herself smaller. Blades are whistling by, and she can feel one of them catching the edge of her haori when she starts climbing the stairs.

“Where’d you think you going?!”

She turns, mortified, her hand grabbing the hilt of her kodachi. She knows it’s too late, though, the man behind her is already swinging at her.

A blade bursts through the man’s heart. He gives a strangled croak, and hot spurts of blood spray on Chizuru’s face from the wound. They pulse with his dying heartbeats.

Saito lets the man drop and kicks the corpse down the stairs.

His azure eyes meet hers for a split second. In them blazes cold fury, but she knows now that it’s not directed at her.

“Saito… san?..”

She wants to express her gratitude, but the fear is still gripping her tightly. Saito doesn’t wait for her to gather herself.

“Go!” He barks and she shakes off her stupor and runs two steps at a time to the second floor.

This time she pulls out her blade ahead of time.

  
  
  


Chizuru can hear the clang of swords ahead. Acting on instinct, she bursts into the room.

It’s him! Okita doesn’t spare her a glance, instead using the moment of distraction she provided him.

A stranger with the color of hair she has never seen flicks his gaze at her, and it was all the captain needed to press forward.

The stranger chuckles. The sound makes her shiver as if a spider has just run along her spine. Something… something is not right.

Okita’s attack is turned on him in the blink of an eye and the stranger kicks the captain square in the chest. In the moonlight streaming through the open window, she can make out the stunned expression on Okita’s face.

He hits the wall with a deafening crash and slides down, his breathing ragged.

“Okita-san!” She is running before she can think about it. Thankfully, the stranger stays his hand, the fight is over for him. He sheaths his sword and approaches the open window.

“Wait!” Okita chokes out amidst the hoarse breaths, “I can still… fight…”

A fit of coughing seizes him, and suddenly, a spray of bright crimson. Chizuru stares in horror as the man beside her hacks out more and more blood into his hand and on the floor.

“Hmpf.” The stranger looks down at Okita and _chuckles_. He turns to leave.

“I said… wait!” With an impressive stubbornness, Okita finds it in him to stand. He has to lean against the wall to do it, but somehow he still finds his feet.

“If you want to die so much…”

“No!” Chizuru leaps in front of the injured captain, sword raised.

“Out of the way,” the stranger growls, and Chizuru’s knees buck under the force of his command. But she still stands her ground.

“No!”

A hand grabs her by the collar and pulls roughly. She stumbles back, finding herself behind…

“Okita-san!!”

“Don’t mix... the kid in this… I’m… I’m your opponent!”

Okita is wavering from side to side on unsteady feet as if he’s drunk, but he puts himself in between Chizuru and the stranger.

“Okita-san!” Her horrified shout does nothing to dissuade him.

The stranger chuckles again. Instead of pulling out his sword once more, he backhands the captain. Okita crumples to the ground without a sound.

“No!”

Chizuru assumes a defensive position over Okita’s body, her sword shaking slightly.

The stranger gives her kodachi a quizzical look and hums.

She waits for a strike to swat her away, but the man seems fixated on her weapon. Then suddenly, the ruby-red eyes come up to her face.

In a blink of an eye, his sword springs back out of its scabbard, and she can’t even hope to block the strike…

Instead of a deathblow, the stranger gives her a shallow cut on the cheek. She winces but stands her ground.

If she were to move away, Okita…

The stranger is still staring her down, his eyes fixed on the cut. Chizuru can feel the warm trickle of blood down her face.

The wound is suddenly hot. She can feel the pain melting away. The flesh sealing itself like nothing ever happened. The stranger watches her intently.

“You’re one of us,” his voice is a deep, bass rumble. Chizuru blinks in surprise. What does he mean by that?

“You’re one of us, and you’re helping those humans?” He sounds surprised. Maybe even put off.

“What… what are you talking about?” She manages to will herself to speak despite the gripping terror.

“You don’t know?” The stranger’s ruby eyes narrow. “Then let me show you.”

A pulse of energy comes out of his body, washing over her. His hair takes on an even paler color, his eyes are luminous with golden light. He looks like a divinity.

The power flows all around her, and suddenly…

Something within her answers this call. A power rising, something she never knew was hidden within her. It wants to burst out of her skin. It’s burning, white-hot, almost too painful to contain.

So she releases it. A wave of force, similar to what the stranger emanates, expands out of her body. They collide, mingle, intertwine in a myriad of colors.

What is that?.. the man stares at her, and somehow she can feel an odd kinship. A _resonance_.

The moment is shattered when she hears hasty footsteps in the corridor. Saito skids to a halt by the door, sword at the ready.

“Yukimura!”

Without a word, the stranger turns and jumps out of the window. Chizuru watches, slack-jawed, as he easily leaps over to the roof of a building on the other side of the street, and with that, he is just… gone.

Like a ghost in the night.

“What was that?” Saito’s voice is concerned, and he is glaring into the darkness that swallowed the strange man.

“Never mind that!” Chizuru shoves her sword back into its scabbard and drops to her knees, “help me flip him over!”

Saito rushes over to her side, and together they put Okita on his back. His breathing is hoarse, ragged, pained. He seemed to have come back to consciousness somewhat, his face contorted in agony. A hand is gripping the fabric over the left side of his chest.

_Please, don’t die..._

Chizuru unclasps his cold, trembling fingers and opens his kimono. His chest rises and falls with fast, shallow breaths. She presses her ear to it.

Blood covers her cheek, but she pays it no heed. Instead, she focuses on his breathing…

And yet she can hear barely anything. That is highly unusual, she can see him breathe, his chest rising and falling and yet…

To make sure she checks the other side of his chest and she can hear the air going in and out of his lung.

She then puts a palm on the left side of Okita’s chest and taps over it with two fingers. They make a loud, hollow sound. Almost like a drum. The other side sounds much duller.

Saito watches her work intently. Chizuru grabs her bag and pulls out the surgical tools. Amidst the scalpels and forceps, she locates what she is looking for.

A hollow needle.

Carefully, she probes under Okita’s collarbone. Her fingers slide over the first rib and nestle in a little dimple before the second.

Then, she places the needle there, pointing downwards, and pushes. Hard.

There is a quiet pop and then a whistle of escaping air. Okita gasps, his face relaxing almost instantly. His breathing slows and deepens.

After a second or two, he cracks open his eyes.

“Okita-san?” Chizuru murmurs, still holding a needle in place. Her other hand is laying on his shoulder, pressing down very gently, just to make sure he doesn’t sit up.

“Chizuru-chan…” his bloody lips twist into a painful smile, “you… really do know… your stuff…”

“Why did you do it, Okita-san?” She asks quietly, not meeting his eyes, “why did you protect me?”

He gasps out a short laugh, despite it probably hurting him.

“Who knows…”

Beside her, Saito raises his head.

“Yukimura. Listen.”

She does. At first, she can’t tell what he means by that, there is nothing there.

And then it dawns on her. There is nothing. No sounds of battle. No screams, no clang of blades.

“Is it… over?”

“Looks like it.” Saito gets up from the floor and peeks out of the door. He then looks at the room across from theirs, and for the first time, Chizuru notices that the door to it has been violently broken. “Wait. Is that… Heisuke?!”

Saito darts over to the crumpled shape in the other room. Chizuru gasps and rushes over as well.

  
  
  


By the time Chizuru has finished providing first aid to the injured, the dawn light is bursting through the clouds.

Okita, Heisuke, and two men Harada found in the back of the inn are carried on pallets back to the headquarters, along with one fallen soldier. Those who can walk surround them as they trek back, Makoto flag proudly flying over them.

They are tired and bloody, but victorious. Chizuru walks in the back, and though her feet are dragging from exhaustion, she knows she will never forget this night or the sight of returning Shinsengumi.

“You did well, Chizuru,” says Harada, who yet again has volunteered to carry her medical bag for her, “thank you.”

She smiles at him as her heart soars higher than the Makoto flag.

_You did well._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely leaning on the movieverse for the Oni powers. If you haven't seen Kyoto Ranbu, you should :3
> 
> Also, if you're wondering what happened with Souji, I gave him a pneumothorax aka collapsed lung. It can happen from a blunt force trauma to the chest, which seems very appropriate. It means the lung has been ruptured, and with every breath, it pushes air into the chest cavity, from which the air cannot escape. Therefore the inability to hear his breath and the hollow sound when tapped, the chest cavity is becoming a balloon with every breath and the air in the chest cavity is crushing the lung. Treatment for it is to create an opening for the air to escape in a safe place (Mad Max Fury Road did not do it well btw, Max would have totally hit Furiosa's diaphragm) like between the first and second rib. There is nothing there to hit.
> 
> Let me know what you think! I love hearing from my readers!


	5. Edo Women

“This sucks.”

Saito raises his eyes from a letter he’s been reading. Souji is laying spread eagle on the futon, chest wrapped in bandages. A massive bruise is blooming on his right cheekbone. Yukimura said the bone had not fractured, thankfully.

“Be thankful you’re alive, Souji. You can fight again another day,” he responds patiently, returning to his work.

“The kid won’t let me leave my room,” his friend glares at him, “she even roped _you_ in to keep an eye on me? What a load of bullshit.”

“The kid saved your life, you moron. I only do this because I agree with her.”

“As to what, exactly?” The other captain’s green eyes narrow dangerously, but his position is far from threatening. Saito knows for a fact Souji can’t even get up from the futon without help. Or horrible pain.

“If we leave you alone you’ll be out in the dojo in five minutes.”

“Ugh.”

He doesn’t even deny it, simply dropping his head back on the pillow.

“Where is she anyway? Can’t even be bothered to check on me herself? Since she can now order the captains around, is she now taking tea with Hijikata-san or what?”

Saito lets out a sigh of suffering. On some level, he can understand the frustration of his friend, but on the other… Souji is just being a pouty child, lashing out at everything and everyone. Saito levels his eyes on the other man.

“Nida finally died last night.”

“Oh.”

“Ando is still holding on, but just barely. Yukimura says he has bad fever, and she can’t leave his side. That is why we decided I’ll be the one to babysit you.” Saito returns to Yamazaki’s report. It seems like the Choshu activity in Shikoku has ceased, but now they have popped up in Fushimi? He thought that area was dominated by Satsuma.

Something fishy is going on in Terada inn.

“Hmpf. I suppose…” Souji finally seems to have let it go, but another glance up at him tells Saito that his friend has simply shifted his attention to something else.

“Say now, what’s up with the ‘we’s? That’s the second time you dropped that little factoid.”

“Did I?” Saito is still scanning the report, absentmindedly rubbing his chin.

“Mhm. The ‘if _we_ leave you alone’ and _‘we_ decided’... are you holding out on me, Hajime-kun?”

“Whatever gutter your mind has gone to, you are wrong.”

“Defensive, are we?” Souji has a smile plastered on his face. Saito calls it stupid in his mind, but he knows Souji thinks it’s diabolical.

Saito sighs and folds up the paper. It is then neatly tucked into his sleeve pocket.

“You’re delusional, Souji, go back to sleep.”

“The more you deny it, the surer I am.”

Saito simply rests his hands on the hips and closes his eyes, signaling to Souji that he is done dealing with him for now.

Meditation would be nice. He tries to reign in his mind.

Despite that, probably because of Souji’s blabbering, his thoughts keep drifting through his fingers. His mind refuses to stay empty, instead…

Instead, an image of the girl floats back into his mind. Yukimura, in bloodstained haori, facing an opponent that had dropped Souji. Her defensive stance over his prone body. Determined eyes, despite the fear. The moonlight gleaning off her blade and her raven hair.

It was… beautiful.

She is a warrior at heart, if not in body. Her cool, collected calm when treating Souji brought him tranquility despite his friend’s injuries. Despite him not knowing whether or not Souji would make it.

He believed in her and her ability.

There is no way around that, he has come to admire Yukimura in the short time she has lived with them. Once her father is located, of course, she will return to Edo, but…

Is it selfish of him to hope that it won’t happen too soon?

The quiet, gentle care she provides to people. Her serious, yet sweet voice. Big chestnut eyes that look at the world with hope and wonder despite all the evidence to the contrary.

No, he shouldn’t think about that. She is very young…

_Not much younger than you._

No. He forcefully cuts himself off. There is no time to even entertain these thoughts.

No time at all.

“Hajime-kun.”

“What now, Souji.”

“You’re blushing.”

Saito’s eyes snap open. Souji is grinning at him with a self-satisfied smile.

“That was a joke.”

Saito quietly breathes a sigh of relief. Damn Souji nearly caught him...

“Or was it?”

  
  
  
  


“Okita-san? I’m coming in.”

The sun is past the zenith when Yukimura makes an entry into the room. Saito opens his eyes.

It took him hours of reigning his thoughts in to stop them from circling her, and here she is again.

She is bearing a tray with porridge and medicine and carefully sets it beside Souji’s futon. Saito carefully searches her face. She looks weary, a lot more tired than usual. There are dark shadows under her eyes.

“Ando?” He asks quietly.

“Yamazaki-san is with him right now. But…” It seems like she can’t make herself finish the sentence.

“I see.” Ando and Nida had both developed infections in their open wounds. Fever carried one away already.

That’s why Yukimura is so tired. It cannot be easy when your patients die despite your best efforts. She spent many a sleepless night trying to nurse them back to health, and now…

Souji got lucky, none of his broken ribs pierced the skin. There was no threat of developing an infection since there was no open wound.

“I made you porridge, Okita-san. No green onions.”

“Thanks, Chizuru-chan,” Souji smiles at her, and suddenly throws a sideways glance at Saito. “I’m feeling quite weak still… do you think you could feed me?”

“Um… if you say so?” The girl seems politely confused, “but you were fine with eating by yourself yesterday. Are you getting worse? Any new pains?”

“No… not really. I mean, it hurt doing it by myself before so I thought I’d ask you today.”

“You should have said something, Okita-san!” She is back to the doctor mode in an instant, chestnut eyes losing some of their softness. “What am I to do with you…”

“Hand feed me, of course.”

Saito watches with interest and some confusion. What on earth is Souji trying to achieve? He clearly is exaggerating his pains to get Yukimura’s attention. To get her to spend time with him.

And Souji was making fun of _him_? That does give him some time to come up with an appropriate retort… he is no good at this. Especially when he needs to come up with a witty response on the fly.

But he might have an opening here.

Yukimura helps Souji sit up on the futon - the latter grimaces in what Saito can only interpret as indeed real pain - and sits down beside him. Green eyes focus on the bowl of porridge, but before that...

“Medicine first.”

“But mom…”

She throws him a fierce look that would have cowed even the Demon Vice-Commander.

“Oh fine, fine.”

Souji opens the small packet of paper and tips it into his mouth, gesturing for the girl to pass him a cup of tea.

“Damn Edo women. Rule my entire life.”

“I thought Hijikata-san rules your life now.”

“I said what I said.”

Yukimura giggles into her hand. It’s something Saito noticed she does that clearly marks her as a woman. Men don’t laugh like that, are not taught to laugh like that. He finds it rather cute.

“ _Is that so, Souji_?” A shadow blocks the open doorway.

The amethyst eyes focused on Souji are no more than narrow slits blazing with hellfire.

“Ah, Hijikata-san, the weather is quite nice today, isn’t it?”

Souji doesn’t even miss a beat, before chomping down on a spoon that Yukimura is holding out for him. She jumps a bit at that, clearly mortified at the sudden appearance of Hijikata.

“Don’t change the subject, you bastard!” Hijikata growls dangerously before starting to stomp over to the futon.

By the looks of it, he might just strangle Souji and save them all a lot of trouble. Should he interfere? Yes, he probably…

“Hijikata-san!”

A bowl of porridge is shoved into Souji’s stomach at which he gasps and nearly topples over.

Yukimura is standing in front of the fuming Vice-Commander, her small hands braced against his chest.

Hijikata is staring at her like he’s just seen her for the first time.

“Hijikata-san! I must ask you to leave!”

“What?”

Her feet are scrambling furiously against the tatami. Slowly but surely, she is pushing him towards the door.

“You are bothering my patient! He needs rest and quiet, not having threats on his life!”

“Yukimura, this is-”

“You put him under my care, and that’s all I’m doing here.”

“But-!”

“I will tell Kondou-san you stopped by. He’ll be glad to hear it.”

“Don’t-!”

With a final shove, she pushes him beyond the open doors.

“Please leave now.”

And with that, she slides the door shut.

Through the partition, the three of them can see a faint silhouette of stunned Hijikata.

Souji throws his head back, roaring with laughter. After a second or two though, he gasps again and starts cursing in between heaving breaths.

The girl is at his side instantly.

“Oh no, please stop… you’re going to hurt yourself! Okita-san!”

“I can’t… his face… oh gods…”

Saito finally finds it in himself to unfreeze from his place.

“I have to admit,” he says slowly and carefully, as to not lose control over his own voice, “I’ve never seen Vice-Commander so flustered.”

The girl freezes, as if just fully realizing what happened.

“Oh gods…” Yukimura grasps her head with a groan, “I can’t believe what I just did! Hijikata-san will kill me…”

“I doubt that,” Saito tries to be reassuring, and puts a careful hand on her tense shoulder, “I was about to stop him myself, but you did it before I could.”

“Huh?”

“Code of Conduct prohibits us to use force to resolve personal conflicts. The penalty for it is seppuku.”

She gasps, staring at him, then at Souji who nods, finally finished with his fit.

“I wouldn’t want to see Vice-Commander enforce that particular rule for himself,” Saito continues, looking into her eyes, “so thank you, Yukimura.”

“Oh.”

He smiles at her.

“You did good, protecting Souji. He needs rest. Right, _Souji_?”

The final word is accompanied by his eyes shifting to meet his friend’s. There is a moment when he thinks Souji might lash out again, but it is gone in a second.

“Oh, fine. Who knew there were so many mama-birds in the fearsome Shinsengumi. Let’s see…” he theatrically starts counting on his fingers, “there is Kondou-san, Hijikata-san, Yamazaki-kun, Chizuru-chan… and now you too, Hajime-kun. A bonafide coop.”

“Just eat, would you?” Yukimura is clearly starting to reach her own boiling point, and since she is not, in fact, a part of Shinsengumi…

Saito smiles.

“You’re playing with fire, Souji. You said it yourself…”

They look at each other, then back to Yukimura.

“Edo women.”

She shoves a full spoon into Souji’s still open mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more light-hearted chapter this time :3 Souji's recovery from his fight with Kazama was kinda glossed over, so why not get a bit more into that, and get some general hilarity?
> 
> Let me know what you think <3


	6. A Simple Kindness

There is no glory in war.

This is something Chizuru has come to understand, marching in the ranks of Shinsengumi. There is dust, sweat, and the sun beating down on their heads.

She is walking beside Saito, a medical bag slung across her back. She was pretty torn about going with the army and leaving the recovering men behind in the headquarters.

But Ando has somehow made it past the most dangerous time and is getting stronger, Okita is able to walk again and Heisuke, despite still having bouts of vertigo and occasional headache, is also doing much better. Her skills would be applied much better taking care of the men injured in the upcoming fight.

There is only one of her, after all. She must pick her battles carefully.

“Yukimura. Are you tired?” Saito’s calm voice brings her out of her thoughts.

“A bit,” she responds honestly, and moves her bag onto another shoulder, rolling the stiff joint. “Though I have to say, going on patrol with you all helped me improve my stamina. I will be fine, I think.”

He nods in response, and looks at her satchel, then back at her. Then silently holds out a hand.

She blinks.

“Do you… want me to… uh…”

Does he want her to hold his hand? Lean on him? What should she do? Her face goes tingly and hot.

“Your bag, Yukimura.” He is looking straight ahead, back stiff. It could be a trick of the light, but are his ears looking redder than usual?

“Oh! O-of course. Thank you, Saito-san.”

She hastily takes it off and puts it into his waiting hand. He silently slings it over his back and picks up the pace, his scarf fluttering in the wake.

“W-wait, I can’t just…” she speeds up as well, catching up to him. He is still looking everywhere but at her. “Don’t just run off with it, Saito-san!”

“Sorry, Yukimura,” he mumbles and is still staring straight ahead.

Chizuru studies his profile with a worried look.

“Are you feeling too hot, Saito-san? Your face is red. It’s a warm day, and we’ve been out in the sun this whole time, walking… You should drink some water, you don’t want to get heatstroke...”

“No, it’s nothing of the sort,” he responds quickly.

“This haori is much warmer than I anticipated, too…” Chizuru fans the edge of the garment on her face. Even a slight movement of the air feels very nice on the damp skin.

“Is that so.” A non-answer if she ever heard one, but he indicates that he is still listening.

“I take it since nobody ordered me to return it, people don’t mind me wearing it…” It is something that still worries her. She is not a warrior. Can she even wear this garment? Is it alright with others?

Saito casts a quick look at her, before focusing his eyes straight ahead again.

“I don’t know, really. I feel… I don’t know if this belongs. If I belong.” Her voice is getting smaller and quieter with each step she takes.

“It suits you.”

Her head snaps up. Saito is still stubbornly looking ahead.

“Really?”

He cannot know how much it means for her to hear him say that.

“You’ve done much and more than we could ever hope for, Yukimura. Please, continue taking care of us.” Saito tilts his head to her briefly, and she can see a flash of his azure eyes. It is gone all too briefly.

“You flatter me, Saito-san. I was just doing what I could.”

“According to the report you gave to the Vice-Commander, there have been fifty-three minor injuries, five major and one death in seven months under your care. And before you say anything,” he stops her opening mouth with a restrained motion of his hand, “nobody blames you for Nida. He was too far gone. You managed to save Ando when all of us have written him off as already dead. Souji and Heisuke are alive and getting better because of you. As for Sannan-san…”

His mouth twists.

_Sannan has let her inspect his arm, after all._

_“Please let me know if you feel anything.”_

_His head turned away, Sannan nodded. She pricked the tip of his thumb with a blunt needle, not hard enough to pierce the skin. He didn’t make a sound. Chizuru moves onto the index finger. A gentle prick._

_No reaction._

_Another finger. And another. And another. Sannan stayed silent, his eyes closed. She tried the phalanges, then moved on to his palm, then the wrist, carefully prodding across the width of his arm._

_No feeling, anywhere._

_Flexing his fingers for him, she asked if he could tell which finger she was bending. He shook his head in response. Chizuru bit her lip. Not even that, then..._

_After the examination, Chizuru simply shook her head. Sannan’s smile was sad and resigned._

_“Just as I thought. Thank you for… confirming my suspicions, Yukimura-kun.”_

_“I’m so sorry, Sannan-san. I wish I could do more.”_

_He turned away from her, looking through the window. His figure, thrown in stark relief against the light, looked painfully lonely._

“What I’m trying to say is… Shinsengumi would be in much rougher shape if not for you, Yukimura. You have earned the right to wear this haori, and no one here would say otherwise.”

Chizuru feels the blush rising again, and turns her head to stare forward as well.

“I… thank you, Saito-san.”

“There is nothing to thank me for.”

After a moment though… something is nagging at her mind.

“Though… come to think of it, I’ve never heard you talk this much before.”

He seems to have stumbled over a rock. The road is pretty uneven…

“Oh! Please, watch your step, Saito-san!”

He quickly rights himself, and now she can definitely see his face has gone a bit pink. He must be embarrassed, stumbling like that, and her seeing it. Saito is always so measured and dignified. She averts her eyes to let him save face.

“Did you turn an ankle?” She asks quietly, still looking away.

“No. It is fine.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

  
  
  
  


The night finally falls, and with it comes a light breeze from the river. Chizuru folds her haori to make a makeshift pillow as she leans on a tree trunk.

Shinsengumi has been stationed with reserves, waiting to be called into the fight. She can feel the irritation from some warriors, and she can understand it.

They were in such high spirits this morning. Being recognized. Being needed.

But, it turned out, there is no glory in this war.

She tucks her heels up to her bottom. She wants to rest, but sleeping would be unfair to the men, who are staying up in case they are called into action.

“Chizuru-chan,” Harada’s voice is suddenly close, and she hears him sit beside her, “feel free to take a nap. Don’t stay up on our account.”

As always, he has a way of reading her mind.

She shakes her head and smiles.

“I’ll stay up. It’s alright.”

A mischievous grin spreads on Harada’s handsome face.

“You can use my lap as a cushion if you like.”

Her cheeks pulse with the heat at the suggestion.

“I... I couldn’t, Harada-san. Don’t tease me like that.”

Sometimes he can be worse than Okita.

“Just joking, just joking. Though I wouldn’t have minded at all…”

“Harada.”

A measured, cool voice interrupts him, and Chizuru is surprised at the sudden presence of Saito at her other side. He is sitting in seiza, completely unfazed, eyes closed. It can’t possibly be comfortable, knees down on the bare earth, but he seems to have no problem with it. And Chizuru simply cannot imagine him sitting improperly.

It seems like Saito has been there for awhile… but she could have sworn he wasn’t there before?

“Some of us are trying to focus. Please keep your voice down.”

“Oh. Sorry, Saito.” Harada leans back, away from Chizuru, grinning sheepishly.

“Besides, your suggestion to Yukimura might cause some unnecessary questions from the men,” he continues, much quieter.

“Right. Right.”

Harada seems to have remembered that her gender must be kept a secret. It would indeed be awkward if a captain of Shinsengumi let a young boy sleep in his lap. That would definitely cause questions.

Most already are quietly suspicious of her, but none voice it, at least not when she can hear it. And with her working diligently as Shinsengumi’s doctor, many warriors have come to be grateful and avoided asking too much about her, where she came from or how she has come to be with them.

Harada quickly peels off to find Nagakura, or more likely fish him out from whatever trouble he had found himself in. Chizuru breathes a sigh of relief.

It’s not like she found Harada’s presence off-putting or anything like that. She likes Harada, and he has always been kind to her. But his easy-going nature is quite alien to her. She never had a relationship with a man, and Harada seems like he flirts with women just as easily as he breathes.

“Thank you, Saito-san…” her whisper carries far in the still night air, and she knows he heard her.

He nods in acknowledgment.

“Um… how long have you been here?”

“I came over when I saw you dealing with Harada. He underestimated how loud he is.”

“Oh…”

“I’ll have a talk with him later.”

“You don’t have to, Saito-san. Harada-san has always been kind to me.”

“And you have been kind to him in return. But some men mistake kindness for more than it is.”

She could have sworn his voice is tinged with sadness at those words.

“I doubt Harada-san is that way.”

Saito doesn’t respond, returning to his meditation. 

“... Saito-san?”

“What is it, Yukimura?”

Chizuru looks at him wearily, his name out of her mouth before she could think of it would be appropriate. But what’s done is done.

“It can’t be pleasant to sit like that on the bare earth… and rocks… would you like to use my haori as a cushion?”

He opens his eyes, his expression unreadable.

“It’s fine.” As usual, his flat voice gives away nothing.

“Oh.”

She shrinks into herself, embarrassed. She shouldn’t have even...

“If I do that, your neck will get stiff. You’ll lose your own pillow.”

Her head snaps up. Saito’s mouth is curved into a small, gentle smile.

“I’ll be fine, Yukimura. But thank you for your offer. I appreciate your kindness.”

For the second time today, she carefully studies Saito’s profile. His eyes are closed in meditation, so she can look at him to her heart's content.

She would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t find him handsome. But it was his presence, more than anything, that put her at ease.

Saito is dependable and calm in any situation. This cool control seems to seep into her when he is near.

As she looks at him, a thought comes unbidden to her mind. Something he said in passing earlier.

Some men mistake kindness for more than it is, huh?..

Then, could there be men who mistake something more for simple kindness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, it's my personal headcanon that Saito is demiromantic.
> 
>  **Demiromantic** is a romantic orientation on the aromantic spectrum defined as someone who does not experience romantic attraction until they have formed a deep emotional connection with someone. The connection can be sexual, platonic, or some other form of connection. Forming an emotional bond with someone does not mean that one is automatically attracted to said person, as it just means there's now a possibility for one to feel attraction.
> 
> Let me know what you think :3


End file.
